


Green Leather Fetish

by Gen717



Category: Smallville
Genre: Chlollie, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-10
Updated: 2010-09-10
Packaged: 2017-10-11 15:55:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/114088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gen717/pseuds/Gen717
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Oliver is away, Chloe plays dress up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Green Leather Fetish

**Green Leather Fetish  
Chlollie Oneshot**

They’d been dating for a few months now, officially. He’d said that they’d probably been dating for over a year, if you considered covert missions, clandestine rooftop meetings, and hours spent poring over files looking for leads on the latest 33.1 facility, as dates.

She knew all there was to know about him, and loved him anyway. More than anyone. He loved her too. Trusted her implicitly. She was the only member of the team allowed to go into his Green Arrow room and touch anything, and that was saying a lot about her status. He never let anyone touch his stuff. In fact, she knew where everything belonged, and sometimes helped him organize and put his gear away.

He was out of town a lot. Just like now, back in Star City for some business. It didn’t make a relationship easy, but it did make for lots of quality alone time and precious stolen moments, and mind-blowing sex in a variety of the most unusual of places. There wasn’t a spot in his penthouse they hadn’t christened, (as well as a few Metropolis rooftops, and a balcony or two or three). Except for maybe the room she was in now, the Sacred Green Arrow Room. They’d never done it in here.

He’d been starting to hint at a more permanent solution to their frequent separations. She smiled to herself. She’d marry him in a heartbeat, but maybe she’d let him sweat a little first, just because.

She missed him. Hadn’t seen him in days. Phone calls were a poor substitute. She stepped over to where one of his green leather costumes was set neatly over a headless, mannequin-like figure, reaching out to touch the soft leather with her fingertips. She loved the way he looked in it, the leather molding to his lean muscular body. She’d never tell him that something about it turned her on; she didn’t have to. He knew. And the Green Arrow used this knowledge of her weakness to his advantage. More than once she’d found herself against a wall, or bent over a rooftop ledge, or thighs straddling green leather, begging him, wanting him, moaning for him.

She missed him. She unzipped and removed the vest from the figure, stroking the leather, and pressing the softness to her lips, breathing in deeply. Under the scent of leather, it smelled faintly of him, and she closed her eyes, inhaling once more. Then suddenly a wicked thought entered her mind, (which was not unusual when she was around green leather). And she dropped the vest to the floor, quickly undoing the buttons of her blouse, removing her bra. And what the heck, why not her pants too. Clothes discarded in a heap, completely naked now, she picked up the vest again, and slipped her arms into it. The leather against her skin, familiar, comforting, yet painfully reminding her that she was alone. She zipped it up. It was way too large for her of course, the edge of the vest partially covering her bottom, the armholes practically revealing her breasts. She didn’t care. It was part of him.

“I think it looks better on you than on me.”

She turned around startled, the heat of embarrassment rushing to her cheeks, clapping a hand over her mouth, to see Oliver Queen, dressed in a white shirt and dark tie, grinning at her, his eyes devouring her from head to toe. How did he do that? Sneak up on people without a sound. He wasn’t supposed to be back for days yet. She hadn’t even heard the elevator.

“Uh… I.. uh, I’m sorry, Ollie,” was all she could manage to babble.

He entered the room, moving closer to her, reaching for her, the yearning and desire in his dark eyes, evident. He’d missed her too, terribly. Hated having to be away from her. “Don’t be. I like it,” he murmured, grasping her barely leather clad hip, and pulling her closer, his hand skimming under the edge, fingertips grazing her flesh. His lips curved in a teasing smile, just before those same amazing lips swooped down to capture hers in a kiss so full of longing, it made her heart quicken.

Vest unzipped now, his hands found what he’d wanted, thought about, dreamed about since he’d left. Slow yearning kisses turned fevered and frantic, white shirt and tie peeled away, suit pants, cast offs, joined with the others on the floor.

And now they were on the floor too, of the Sacred Green Arrow room, leather vest lay parted, open, revealing all to him, for him. Skin against skin, hands and mouths and bodies hungry from too many days without each other’s sustenance, finally able to enjoy the feast they gladly gave to one another.

Cries and moans, and urgently whispered words masculine and feminine both, filling the room, as bodies moved together rhythmically, gyrating, pumping, pulsing, chasing and reaching completion in each other.

And then, lovers, satiated for now, lay together, wrapped in each other’s arms, contentment flowing between them. They’d finally christened the Green Arrow room, she thought absently.

“If you wanted your own costume, Watchtower, you should have told me,” he whispered teasingly against her cheek, his smiling lips pressing a soft kiss there.

She lifted her head from his shoulder, smiling down at him. “No, my green leather fetish is just for you.” 

**End Oneshot**


End file.
